A changing world
Play Political Games, Pay Political Prices
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Author Abraham L. Feb 5, 2026
In a divided culture, brands risk losing their voice when they mistake marketing for moral authority.
Back in the 1990s, Michael Jordan (my childhood hero) was asked why he wouldn’t publicly endorse a political candidate during a contentious election. His reported response was a lesson for all brands: “Republicans buy sneakers too.”
At the time, some people viewed the comment as cynical. Others saw it as smart business. But decades later, it feels oddly prophetic.
Jordan understood something many modern brands seem to forget: When people come to you for excellence, escapism, inspiration, entertainment, or craftsmanship, they don’t necessarily want a lecture attached to the purchase.
They might just be there for the basketball.
Today, however, brands increasingly find themselves pulled (or even rush) into political and social debates, often feeling pressure to publicly signal moral positioning on complex and deeply polarising issues. In some cases, it comes from genuine conviction, in others, from internal pressure, trend momentum, or fear of silence being interpreted as complicity.
Brands increasingly find themselves pulled into political and social debates
But there’s an uncomfortable commercial reality underneath all of this. Most elections today are not won 90–10. They’re won 51–49.
Which means the moment a brand plants a flag politically, it may be voluntarily distancing half of its potential audience. And unlike individual people, brands don’t vote, protest, or hold beliefs in the human sense. Brands are broad public-facing entities trying to maintain trust across increasingly fragmented populations.
That’s a difficult balancing act even without the politics.
For years, marketers were told consumers wanted brands to “take a stand.” And in some contexts, that absolutely can work, especially when the stance is deeply authentic to the company’s actual history, operations, or customer base.
But increasingly, audiences seem able to sense the difference between genuine conviction and brand theatre.
The result is that many campaigns designed to demonstrate leadership instead end up feeling preachy, opportunistic, or strangely disconnected from the product itself.
Recent years have provided several high-profile examples. Bud Light found itself at the centre of a cultural firestorm after a politically charged influencer partnership spiralled into a national controversy. Gillette sparked fierce debate with its “The Best Men Can Be” campaign, which attempted to reposition masculinity through a moral lens. Jaguar has faced criticism that recent repositioning efforts moved so far into abstract cultural messaging that the product and identity became secondary… even it’s established base seemed to be a secondary thought.
What’s interesting is that none of these examples necessarily failed because of the politics themselves. They struggled because audiences often felt they were being sold to and preached at simultaneously, and that brands didn’t recognize their stance was not one shared by 90% of their existing consumers.
That’s a difficult stat to face.
Great brands became cultural meeting points rather than current-affairs battlegrounds.
Most people don’t expect beer, razors, or cars to function as moral authorities. They expect them to make good beer, good razors, and good cars. And perhaps that’s where the tension lies.
For decades, the strongest brands built broad appeal by creating spaces people could enter together despite their political or social differences. Sport did this brilliantly. Music often did too. Great brands became cultural meeting points rather than current-affairs battlegrounds.
Jordan didn’t unify people through political speeches. He unified people through his greatness on the court, and his dedication to the fans that paid to see him play.
There’s also a practical reality that businesses sometimes forget: ideals are difficult to sustain without commercial success.
A few years ago, during a conversation with a new client, I said something that may have sounded shallow, but many start-ups today should take to heart:
“You can’t change the world if you have no money. And money means sales.”
It wasn’t meant cynically. Quite the opposite. We couldn’t have helped changed the lives of tens of thousands of people in Nepal if we had no commercial success. We practiced what we preach, kept politics out of it, and improved people’s quality of life.
“You can’t change the world if you have no money. And money means sales.”
My advice was about recognising that brands often overestimate how much power to move the needle they actually possess, while underestimating the importance of trust, consistency, and delivering tangible value to customers first and foremost.
Because once a brand begins speaking from a moral high horse, expectations change dramatically. Audiences start scrutinising every inconsistency, their every supplier, internal policy, executive decision. Every contradiction between what they preach and how they act.
And very few brands can survive that level of ideological purity test indefinitely. Most people can’t either.
None of this means brands should become sterile or passionless. But perhaps there’s wisdom in doing what you do exceptionally well, and even remembering you are bettering lives by doing it.
Because in an era where everything feels political, one of the most refreshing things a brand can sometimes do is simply remember why people liked them in the first place. And if you are interested in changing some lives in Nepal, reach-out to learn about our Ethical Spending model of support.